


No Happy Endings

by KY Lowell (TachyonStar)



Category: Dissidia Final Fantasy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/KY%20Lowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squall's sick and tired of thinking too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Happy Endings

Wrapped in solitude, surrounded by white and light and intangible little shreds of hope, it was all too easy to lose one's mind.

Maybe that was why, Squall thought, keeping his eyes shut tight and his breaths slow and even, hoping he could give at least a passable pretense of having fallen to sleep. Maybe that was why he'd finally stopped resisting, finally given in to the temptations of touch and taste and warm, slick skin on skin that promised to drive him to distraction, blocking away the thoughts that raced through his head until the only ones left were _more_, _harder_, _faster_ and he didn't have to _worry_ any more. Crystals, fighting, gods and goddesses and tales of a conflict without end - for a short time, all of it had vanished and he'd finally felt at peace until reality came crashing back down on him, somewhere in between the most exquisite pleasure and the slow return of outside sensation. Sticky-wet with sweat and release and the lingering remains of biting little kisses, all too clearly aware of the heavier body that rested atop his and the finely-trembling hand threaded into his hair, he'd tried so desperately to push the thoughts away again but they'd stubbornly stayed and he found himself tasting bitter regret on the back of his tongue.

Had it really _had_ to end? To leave him quaking and broken, lying beneath the Warrior of Light on Cosmos' very own throne, and wishing that he could step back a moment in time to the point he'd actually felt _whole_ again?

It almost made him want to cry.

He wasn't sure whether he was glad or sorry, now, that they hadn't remained like that - that they'd shifted apart and gotten more comfortable, strong arms wrapping themselves tight about his waist as he curled on his side and feigned exhaustion in the hopes of being spared any post-coital conversation, even as silence threatened him with its stifling cloak and made him feel like screaming just to rend it to shreds. He resisted the urge as best he could, setting his teeth to the inside of his lip in the hopes the pain would provide some distraction, but the quiet only pressed down thicker still and he suddenly felt as if he were suffocating. Perhaps it was fitting, to have his breath stolen away by this little splinter of time, where he really didn't _need_ to worry but without something else to focus on he couldn't help himself; the absence of distraction simply brought all those nagging little demons back into his head, swirling faster and faster through his brain and he thought that maybe he _was_ going to scream now, the sound welling up so quickly it took all his effort not to gag on it--

"You're trembling."

\--_snap_ \- and his cheeks flushed vivid crimson as the concerned voice at his ear, completely unfooled by his pretense of slumber, brought him back to reality again so quickly he thought he could _hear_ himself break free of the quiet and he took a sharp, gasping breath. "...Too quiet," he offered finally, hoarsely, the whole explanation at the same time it just wasn't enough, turning suddenly over before he knew he was going to move and burying his face against the closest thing that would hide it, the still-damp and soothingly warm curve where neck met shoulder proving itself more than capable of hiding the surroundings from his helpless eyes. "...Felt like screaming. Don't want to _think_ any more. I - wish we hadn't _stopped_." He felt as though he was choking on the last sentence, but it slid free of his lips before he even had time to wonder whether he'd regret admitting it so openly, and he was sure he had to be turning redder still as he waited nervously for the reaction. Maybe it was too much, maybe he wasn't supposed to say such things, it was just a one-time pity fuck so the both of them could lose themselves for a little while and those kinds of things were better suited to something _ongoing_, weren't they?

Maybe he was just an idiot who couldn't hold his tongue when he needed to the most.

A slow breath, then quietly at his ear - "It isn't simply being alone that you fear - but being alone with your thoughts."

The words, inflected as they were, shamed Squall. If they'd been a question he could have at least put up a front of denial, but the bluntly confident manner in which they were spoken left no doubt, and he felt himself tremble just faintly at the _weight_ of that utterance settling on him. It was true, but - he didn't want to confront it so openly, wanted to run away from that particular truth and leave it buried in the dust of time, and to have it forced upon him now brought back the suffocating feeling and made him clutch at the nearest thing with fingers curled clawlike, his eyes wide and his chest heaving as he struggled for the air it seemed like he just _couldn't_ breathe; he barely felt the soothing hand on his back, rubbing slow circles to coax him into calming, or the soft brush of lips still swollen from kisses over his ear, but the next words were all too clear despite being only a whisper. "Why do you fear it so badly?"

The crushing pressure abruptly eased and he gasped in a breath, left blinking in the wake of the question as confusion battered away panic. Why, indeed? The fear had always been there, but he wasn't sure he _had_ a reason - he'd always been alone before, alone with too much time to think and run circles inside his own head, and it had never threatened to break him like this. "I don't...know," he started, took another breath so deep it seemed to knife his chest and made himself look up, wishing he could be even a fraction as calm right now as the other seemed to be. "I've always been like that - I've always been...alone..."

..._Alone_.

When comprehension slowly dawned, pale eyes seemed to warm slightly as if from an unseen smile, and the Warrior of Light said for him what he'd only just realized outright. "You are not alone now."

"...I don't want it to end." He only dimly realized he was speaking, his eyes shutting tight as he pressed himself forward, wrapped a leg around both of the Warrior's to lock their bodies together and clung to him like a frightened child. "I don't want any of this to end! Even if it means we're fighting forever - even if it means we never _get_ anywhere - I don't...I don't want to go back to being alone!" He thought he'd feel shame from the words, from admitting to someone else what he'd never even dared to admit to himself, but instead the feeling that suffused him was a strange warmth and he felt the ease of a pain he hadn't even known was gripping him, relief washing so strongly over him he felt dizzy; he was certain he would have collapsed if he'd been standing, and as it was, he sagged sharply enough against the Warrior's body to elicit a sound of surprise and concern before he could manage to turn his face upward again. "I don't want to be alone again," he whispered, and somehow found himself unsurprised to notice it didn't hurt at all to say it.

The Warrior watched him, traced his cheek idly with a finger and said suddenly, "What if there could be an ending where you were not alone?"

A happy ending, Squall's mind translated for him, and he trembled longingly for the moment he entertained the little flight of fancy, but just as quickly dismissed it with a slight shadow crossing his eyes. "Something like that - a happy ending can't possibly happen, can it? Even with all of Cosmos' power..."

"...You find it better not to get your hopes up?" Something almost a smile twitched at the Warrior's lips and he shifted, turning Squall uncomplainingly onto his back once more and nudging his legs apart; calloused fingers dipped down and _in_, stroking into the passage still slick from their previous exertions, and he _did_ smile when Squall flushed deep red and tried to hide it with a quick, jerky nod. "A wise move," he commented as if he hadn't even noticed the blush, bending his head down so their lips nearly touched, "but...do you know _why_ there are to be no happy endings, Squall?"

The sound of his name on the Warrior's lips made Squall tremble again; he breathed a moan and shook his head no, his heart racing.

"...Nothing ever ends." The fingers slipped out, replaced by something much larger and hotter swiftly enough that Squall's clouded senses could offer no protest to the brief emptiness. "As long as you remember, as long as you _know_...the fantasy continues without end. There is no need for a happy ending."

Wrapping his arms about the Warrior's pale back and pressing his nails into the skin, mesmerized by the way the man arched over him at the tiny pricks of pain and arching with him to claim his lips in a hungry kiss, Squall decided that was a good enough answer for now. He had more important things to focus on, both now and later.

They all did. After all, none of them were alone.


End file.
